Nighty-Nightmare
Nighty-Nightmare
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Aladdin
Just the Series: Bunnicula Vol. 4   

Series and Publisher: Bunnicula   

Annotation: When scary strangers appear at the Monroes' overnight campsite, Chester the cat tries to convince the family's two dogs that foul play is intended.
 
Reviews: 3
Catalog Number: #215455
Format: Perma-Bound Edition
Special Formats: Chapter Book Chapter Book
Publisher: Aladdin
Copyright Date: 1987
Edition Date: 2007 Release Date: 08/07/07
Illustrator: Morrill, Leslie,
Pages: 122 pages
ISBN: Publisher: 1-416-93966-0 Perma-Bound: 0-8000-7052-6
ISBN 13: Publisher: 978-1-416-93966-5 Perma-Bound: 978-0-8000-7052-6
Dewey: Fic
LCCN: 86022334
Dimensions: 20 cm.
Language: English
Reviews:
School Library Journal

Gr 3-6 It's another outing for the companions of Bunnicula (Atheneum, 1979) the (supposedly) vampire rabbit. This time, they are on a camping trip with the Monroes, their cheerfully oblivious owners. Chester suspects danger from the outset, and his worst suspicions are confirmed when the Monroes set up camp near Bud, Spud, and their dog, Dawg, a sinister threesome right out of Deliverance. When Dawg leads Howie, Harold, and Chester on a chase deep into the surrounding forest and they become lost, Chester tells them a scary story to lull Dawg to sleep so that they can escape to rescue the Monroes who, they are sure, are in mortal danger. The story, of course, turns out to be about Bunnicula, Chester's favorite subject, and his origins, which turn out to be similar to the plot of any standard vampire movie and which, curiously, seem to involve Bud and Spud. Dawg brings about logical explanations which convince even Chester until he learns about Pete's secret merit badge project: breeding Bunnicula. . . . This fourth story in the series is the weakest, relying too much on readers' familiarity with vampire movie cliches and tolerance for weak puns. The journey into Bunnicula's roots is labored at best. The central conceit of this is done wittily but is getting threadbare. Is Chester right or merely hysterical? Readers would like to know. Christine Behrmann, New York Public Library

Word Count: 15,678
Reading Level: 4.2
Interest Level: 3-6
Accelerated Reader: reading level: 4.2 / points: 2.0 / quiz: 282 / grade: Middle Grades
Reading Counts!: reading level:5.2 / points:4.0 / quiz:Q08394
Lexile: 680L
Guided Reading Level: R
Fountas & Pinnell: R
When the Monroes arrived right after us, the man by the fire looked up.

"Well, howdy," he said. "You folks out camping?"

"We...we thought we'd camp over there," Mrs. Monroe said, pointing to a sandy patch near the water's edge. "That is, if you don't mind."

"Mind? Heck, no. We never do get to see people in these parts. I'm Bud. And that there is Spud."

Spud, I thought. How fitting.

The Monroes introduced themselves and us. Spud looked everybody over, turned the knife in his hands, and spat on the ground.

"Nice-looking animals you got there," Bud said, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans. "Yes'm. Nice looking. Now, you take Dawg, he's seen better days. He cain't help it, he's been around by life, and sometimes he jes gets downright mean and orn'ry. But he's a good dawg, Dawg is."

"That's your dog's name?" said Mr. Monroe. "Dog?"

"Dawg," said Bud.

He flipped the fish in the frying pan. Spud spat. Dawg dragged himself to his feet and, drool and all, headed in our direction.

"He looks a little like Max," I commented, trying to cheer myself by bringing to mind a friendly bulldog of our acquaintance.

"Yeah, the way a rattler looks like a garter snake. Happy Saint George's Day," Chester said, and the hairs continued to rise all the way down my back.

"What kind of mutt do you call yourself?" Dawg growled as he came closer. His teeth were stained and pitted like old linoleum.

"Nonviolent," I said, hoping he wouldn't catch the tremor in my voice.

He snorted, sending a waft of rancid breath my way, and started to circle me, sniffing. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's this humiliating sniffing routine that passes for a handshake in the dog world. I would have suggested that he "give me five," but I was a little too nervous. Besides, I didn't have the feeling Dawg was the kind of old dog who was keen to learn new tricks. In fact, I didn't have the feeling Dawg was too keen at all.

"Watch this," he said, when he'd tired of sniffing. He sauntered over to the campfire, stopping only when he was so close that his mangy fur took on a red glow. I exchanged puzzled glances with Chester and Howie, wondering what it was we were supposed to be watching.

The Monroes, meanwhile, had moved down the slope to their campsite. Bud, who had gone back to his fish, ignored Dawg, while Spud just stared off into space, slowly turning his knife in his hands. After a moment, Dawg barked. The two men looked up and Bud started to shout, "Lookee, Spud. Hot dawg! Hot dawg!" His wild laughter made him sound like a demented goose. From the way Dawg and Spud curled their lips, I gathered that this was meant to be a big joke. Suddenly, I had the feeling I knew how prehistoric cavemen might have entertained themselves. I decided maybe television wasn't such a bad invention after all.

"Gee, Uncle Harold," Howie said, "What do you think?"

"I think Chester's right," I replied. "The woods are full of spirits tonight."

"Evil spirits?"

"Stupid spirits," I said.

Chester mumbled something, but I couldn't hear him over the sound of the can opener in the distance. Dinner was about to be served, and I wasn't going to miss it.



Excerpted from Nighty-Nightmare by James Howe
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

THINGS ARE NOT WHAT THEY SEEM....

Are Harold, Howie, and Chester simply lost in the woods with Dawg, their strange new friend? Or have they been lured away from their campsite intentionally, leaving the Monroes at the mercy of evil spirits with mayhem on their minds? Lulling Dawg to sleep with a bedtime story may be their only hope of escaping -- but is the hare-raising tale of the origins of Bunnicula, the vampire bunny, really a bedtime story?


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